Lainey
Ibarely slept last night. When I got back to my apartment, I went through my nightly routine in a numb, robotic haze. Anxiety parked itself firmly in my chest, squeezing harder with every breath I took. The FGFD significant other text group was a blessinganda curse. I was happy to get updates from them, but at the same time they kept the reality of what the guys were facing at the forefront of my brain. It played like a movie in flashes that I was unable to turn off. Every imagined image of a flame-filled building and Remington amongst them made me feel dizzy.
Apparently there was a massive fire at a farm outside of town. One of the silos that holds their grain caught fire, which spread quickly to multiple structures on the property. The house was spared and no humans were injured, but the loss was still devastating. The Rockfells, third-generation farmers that owned that land, lost a lot of their livelihood, including some livestock that was in one of the barns. It was horrible and so sad. Fire is unforgiving.
Remington had called me when they finally got back to the station. They had been up all night, and he had gotten nosleep, either. He was off shift but asked if he could come see me. I was awake anyways, having given up on any real sleep hours ago. He told me he was going to take one more shower and then head my way. When I came home last night, I had slipped on a comfortable pair of silk sleep shorts and one of Remington’s T-shirts that I smuggled from his house that I liked to sleep in when he was working. Too exhausted to bother changing, I just brushed my teeth again, sat on the couch, and waited for Remington to text that he was here.
I must have dozed off for a little while, because a knock on my front door startled me from where I had slipped down on the couch cushions. Looking at my phone, I noticed that I had a couple missed texts and a missed call from Remington.Crap.Going to the door, I open it in my exhausted state without even looking to see who’s there, which is so unlike me.
“Oh my God,” I gasp when Remington’s exhausted, but still devastatingly handsome face greets me.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He steps into me, holding me tightly with one arm, the other occupied with a to-go tray of coffee and pastry bag from the Sugar Cube.
I let out a shaky sigh of relief. His strong presence and body brought me a calm that was impossible to find on my own all night. I hold his cheeks and kiss him fully, needing to make sure he is really here, really fine. I pull back and search his face. “You’re okay?”
“Of course I’m okay, baby. I already told you that on the phone.” He pulls me to the couch and we sit down together.
“I know, I know. But seeing you in person is different, better. It makes me feel better.” I feel cold and want to get closer to him, but I am not sure anything will be close enough to fix what I am experiencing right now.
“Last night must have been a lot for you, and it’s all my fault. I feel like such an asshole,” Remington says with frustration, handing me a coffee cup. I take a sip. It’s a flat white, myone and only coffee order that I like. “I know you drink tea at home, but I figured you might like the extra-large caffeine boost today.” Again he’s taking care of me, knowing what I need without me even having to ask for it.
“Thank you, this is perfect.” I take another sip. “Why exactly do you feel like an asshole though? We had a nice time last night.”
“I meant about the fire alarms at the station, us rushing out on the call. We never talked about that being an option. I am so used to that life, and I have never brought anyone else into it. I didn’t prepare you at all, Lainey, and I should have. I had to justgo,and I hated leaving you.” Regret is painted all over his face.
“I understand that you had to go. I’m not upset about that at all. I am so grateful that you’re safe, that’s all that matters.” I kiss him reassuringly.
Leaning his forehead on mine, Remington threads his thick fingers gently through my hair confessing, “Last night was the first timeeverthat I didn’t want to get on that truck, Lainey. I was so worried about leaving you like that.”
My conversation before I left Jess pops into my mind. How she has to control her fear so that Matt can do his job, and in this moment I truly understand what she was telling me.
“Remington.” I pull his attention back to my face, needing him to really listen to what I am saying. “The last thing I want you to do when you get on that truck and head out to an emergency or a fire is to be worried aboutme.I do not want to be a distraction for you.”
His eyes go wide, worry and panic running wild, and I know I must have said something wrong. “Does, does this mean that you don’t want to be with me anymore?” He almost chokes out the words, like he has to force them out of his own mouth.
“WHAT!” I squawk, actually shouting, which makes hisworried eyes go impossibly wider. “No, no, no. That isnotwhat I am saying, why would you think that?” I can feel tears forming fast from emotion and exhaustion.
“I’m sorry, I just assumed it was doomsday,” he says, his face pinching in a pained admission. “I thought you were about to break up with me. A whole it’s not you it’s me, this is better for you, kind of thing.” He groans and puts his elbows on his knees, hands covering his face.
“Sorry, not sorry, but you are stuck with me, Remington LeBlanc. You can’t get rid of me or scare me off that easily,” I say, sassily. My tone works to pull a small smile from him as he looks over at me and rolls his eyes.
“God, I love it when you are feisty,” he grumbles, pulling me into his perfectly hard chest.
“I know,” I say, and he blows out a breath.
“But really, this is not too much for you?” His question has layers upon layers of questions underneath, and I know exactly what they are, where they are stemming from.
I straddle his lap and he groans, gripping my hips firmly. “This is not too much for me.You, Remington, are not too much for me.” Emotion ripples in his eyes and his breathing becomes labored.
Time seems to stand still as he stares into my own eyes, like he’s waiting for something. I wiggle a little and feel the length of his very hard cock against me. The only thing separating us are his jeans and my barely there sleep shorts. Something snaps in Remington’s gaze and demeanor.
“Fuck it,” he says, scooping me into his arms, my legs banding around his chiseled waist, as he carries me to my bedroom.
He spins me toward my bed, but we don’t make it that far. Instead, we collide with a wall as his mouth finds mine in a hungry pursuit of passion and lust. I can’t stop the moan thatrumbles up my chest when he dips his greedy tongue in my mouth and I taste him fully for the first time since yesterday.
I needed this. For him to touch me, hold me, kiss me.
But I need more.
